


Cure Me Of Myself

by Lowkey (Soldottern)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Alternate Norse Religion & Lore, Blood and Injury, Cheating, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, First Meetings, First Time, Goddesses, Gods, Healing, Infidelity, Injury Recovery, Insults, Large Cock, Light BDSM, Marvel Norse Lore, Medieval Medicine, Nature, Old Norse, Pagan Gods, Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Power Swap, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Shapeshifting, Stranger Sex, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28526787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soldottern/pseuds/Lowkey
Summary: Chapter 1: The goddess Freyja stumbles upon a wounded man in the woods of Vanaheim.Chapter 2: The stranger regains consciousness.Chapter 3: COMING SOONChapter 4: COMING SOON
Relationships: Freyja | Freya/Óðr | Odr (Norse Religion & Lore), Frigga | Freyja/Odin (Marvel)
Kudos: 3





	1. Carry My Soul

Always on the journey to find her husband Odr, the goddess Freya finds herself in the rural woods of Vanaheim. After miles and miles of thick forest she finally happens upon a clearing where she stumbles upon a man, barely managing to stand and clearly wounded. Well aware that wounded creatures are the most unpredictable, she crouches down, carefully approaching the stranger. Once she is within viewing distance, she waves her hands to get the man’s attention. He makes no move to show that he sees her, nevertheless she gets closer until she is within arm distance. Freya reaches out to touch his hand in an attempt to alert him to her presence. 

“What happened?”, she asks softly.

The man attempts to take a step away but instead his knees give out and he sinks down onto the ground with a dull thud.

Freya scours her surroundings, searching for safe place where she could take the stranger. Aimlessly dragging an unconscious man through the forests of Vanaheim would have been a foolish undertaking. Through the thick of the trees she thinks she can see a wooden roof and without another option she decides to take the overgrown footpath in that direction. First, however, she has to turn the dazed man over onto his back as to not get more dirt into the gaping wounds on his chest. Her first attempt at lifting him up below his arms fails, her was far too heavy. Then, she pulls his arms above his head and using the additional leverage she manages to turn him on his back, though grunting furiously. With her arms wrapped around his torso, she slowly drags him across the forest floor. 

“How are you this heavy?”, she groans to herself, “Do you want to die out here?” 

The unconscious man, unsurprisingly, does not respond.

The wooden roof turns out to belong to an abandoned cabin, more of a hut really, the door to which has been entirely reclaimed by nature. She carefully lets go of the man. 

“You’re not going to help me get this open, are you?”, she asks him and sighs. 

Freya braces herself and kicks at the door which swings open immediately, revealing what seems to be a dilapidated hide-out of sorts. 

“See? Never underestimate the ability of a goddess to do everything by herself.”, she utters triumphantly as he grabs hold of the unconscious stranger once more, pulling his body into the cabin.

The furniture is similarly in disrepair, however the heavy wooden chair looks stable enough and after a brief struggle she manages to hoist the man onto it. She removes the shreds of what used to be his shirt, barely recognisable as such and caked with blood. Using water from her flask and a piece of fabric she tears from her own garment, she begins to wash him in order to get a better look at his injuries. 

For a brief moment the man’s eyes flicker open and he mutters, “My lady, what -”, before his eyes fall shut once more and his body slumps over on the chair.

Freya places the back of her hand on his forehead to check his temperature. His forehead feels like the smouldering heat of Muspelheim and she furrows her brows in concern. 

“Oh no. That’s not good.”, she says to herself as she takes a closer look at the gashes on his chest. 

Already the cuts were looking infected, red and hot around the edges of the wounds. 

During one of his brief moments of consciousness, she forces him to drink some water, most of which drips from the corners of his mouth onto the wooden floor. She decides that she needs herbs in order to soothe the infection and lower his temperature. Knowing that he isn’t in a state of being able to leave in the meanwhile, she leaves him in the cabin as she heads into the forest to gather her supplies. 

After almost two hours of searching the woods for the correct herbs and supplies, including fresh water and a leaf that would allow her to seal the herbs in to the wound, Freya arrives back at the cabin. By the way the man is slumped over the chair she can tell that he must have been awake at some point and had attempted to move. Luckily, however, his attempt had been in vain.

She hurries to crush up the herbs, then proceeds to move towards the man. With her palm on his forehead, she can tell that there has been no change since she left, if anything, he has gotten worse. 

She sighs and says, "Let's get you better, shall we?"

Freya sacrifices another piece of her garment to use for a rag. After having cleaned his wounds once more, she thinks to herself, “How do i keep this man down?”, before settling on a plan. Freya knows from personal experience that having herbs and ointments rubbed into your wound, is not the most pleasant of experiences. This man is clearly used to fighting, though whether he is very good at it is a different question entirely. He is a fighter so there was no doubt in her mind that he would react accordingly, regardless of how peaceful he looked while unconscious. 

Once she has her supplies cleaned and her herbs on hand, she gently climbs on top of him, her knees to the sides of his body, immobilising his hands.

Freya takes a deep breath and speaks, "This is going to hurt."

She readies herself to move quickly, the crushed herbs in one hand and the leaf with the glue-like liquid in the other. In a fast but precise movement she rubs the herbs into his gaping wound and places down the leaf.

The stranger’s eyes open wide and his hands shoot up from below her body. With a guttural scream he throws her off of him. Freya flies backwards and her head hits the counter of what used to be an old washing station with a loud thump. 

She exclaims, "Ow, that’s unnecessary.", as she watches the man take one look at his chest before falling unconscious yet again. As she rises to her feet she sighs to herself, “I figured he was going to react but that was more strength than I would have expected from a common man.”

Her hand touches the back of her head and she half-expects to see blood. Luckily there was none. She shakes her head gently as she moves closer to see whether the herbs were still in place. Freya gently wraps the man's torso with bandages, made from clean fabric. By the time she is done, Freya has a hopeful, gentle smile on her lips. 

"Now then, all we have to do is wait for you to awake."


	2. Heal My Heart

Throughout the following days, she feeds him, makes sure he drinks water to help his fever, and changes is wrappings. When she isn’t taking care of the stranger, she is seated on what used to be a bed, yet resembles more of a bench nowadays, thinking to herself. “Who are you? What did you do? With the strength you exhibited there is no chance you are a mere mortal, is there?”

The next time the man opens his eyes he seems more awake and aware of his surroundings.

She rushes over to him and says, "Good morning.", with a gentle smile. 

He mumbles something in response and attempts to rise from the chair. 

She gently places a hand on his shoulder and mutters, "Don't you dare!" 

Freya eyes the stranger who is clearly pondering his options. After a moment he eases himself back onto the chair.

“I have spent all too much of my time bringing you back to life, for you to ruin my work within seconds of being awake, sire.”, she says, her tone bold but her eyes are betraying a sense of relief.

The man’s voice is hoarse from days of illness and disuse when he responds, “How you choose to spend your time is your business, my lady.”

“Excuse me, sire, one would think that after a lady such as myself spends days caring for you, you would show so much as an ounce of respect.”, she shoots back.

“Does a lady such as yourself have a habit of taking in strays?”, the stranger asks, glaring.

“Perhaps I do, I don't think you are in any position to pry into my personal life and regardless, if I did, you would be the least thankful of all strays.”, Freya responds, her arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“Are grateful strays your one source of joy, my lady?”, he shoots back, his head slightly tilted to the side as he eyes her intently.

This time her response is not immediate. For a moment she ponders, not wanting to give the strange more information about herself than absolutely necessary, before snapping back.

"Do you make a habit of nearly dying? From our interaction thus far, I can certainly tell why someone felt the desire to stab you.”

His eyes meet hers as he stares at her coldly. “I can whole-heartedly assure you, my lady, that my habits are none of your concern.” 

As he speaks he motions to get to his feet once more. 

As his body moves, her eyes stare at him with nearly threatening intensity, "You made it others’ concern, specifically my own, when you chose to die in the middle of nowhere. The least you can do, is sit there and say thank you."

He halts in his movements to reply, “My gratitude knows no bounds.” Despite the weakness in his voice the words come out cold and sharp.

She nearly growls in response, “If you care about your health, I wouldn’t.” This stranger was not about to wander out into the forest and die after Freya had paused her search for days to take care of him.

“Very bold of you to assume I care about my health, my lady. Besides, I would love to see you try to stop me.”, the stranger utters with a strange glint in his eyes.

Just like that, her patience runs out. Her eyes are fixed on his as she takes a step closer and plants herself on top of him, pushing him to sit back down fully with the weight of her body. Her bottom is now resting against his thighs, her legs wrapped around the sides of his body and her pelvis nearly pressed against his stomach. 

Freya sighs and says, "Now then, If you want to stand, either you are going to have to throw me into that cabinet again or convince me to move."


End file.
